


Sparrow

by galaxystiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Canon Compliant, De-Aged Castiel, M/M, Post-Season/Series 11, Pre-Slash, Spells & Enchantments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:22:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6582889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxystiel/pseuds/galaxystiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an attempt to restore Castiel's wings to their former glory, the boys decide to look for a spell to fix the problem. Naturally, it doesn't go to plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sparrow

It all started with Castiel’s forlorn expression during a nature documentary.

They were watching a show about baby sparrows, or something like that. Some kind of bird. If Dean was completely honest with himself, he’d been paying more attention to Cas than the actual documentary. He was just so expressive when he watched shows like this; biting his lip, letting out soft gasps, enraptured by the beauty of nature.

This particular expression – the downturn of his lips paired with wide, disappointed eyes and slumped shoulders – this was unusual. This kind of misery usually only came about when Dean was in a bad mood and snapped at him, or when someone referenced Castiel’s past attempt at angel genocide. Not when he was watching TV. It didn’t sit right with Dean.

“Something wrong, Cas?” He asked lightly. The baby sparrows were fledging, leaving the nest before they could fly and hopping around, getting stronger. Dean couldn’t see anything to be sad about.

Castiel let out a sigh, shaking his head. “No, nothing is wrong. I just … miss my wings. It’s – I’m relieved to have my grace back, truly, but it can be a burden, not to fly. It would be easier to be,” he hesitated for a moment as if to reconsider his words, “of assistance that way.”

Dean knew that Cas had been moments away from expressing his desire to be useful again and was glad Castiel had changed his mind. The last time Castiel had tried to explain he wasn’t useful, it had resulted in a fight that Dean didn’t care to relive. Suffice it to say, somehow he and Sam had made it clear to Castiel that he didn’t need to be in the thick of things to be considered useful.

“No sign of your feathers growing back then?” He asked delicately. Castiel’s wings were a touchy subject.

Castiel shook his head, not that Dean really needed the answer. He’d seen what was left of Castiel’s once-proud wings, or at least the shadows of them. Falling had really done a number on them and so far the damage seemed to be irreparable.

“Well,” Dean straightened as an idea struck him. “Why don’t we check the library? The Men of Letters had lots of lore and spells in regards to angels, maybe there’ll be something there for you. We can look first thing in the morning, yeah?”

Castiel smiled softly. Dean cleared his throat and looked away. The genuine affection in Castiel’s gaze wasn’t something he was ready to handle just yet. He needed a little while longer to deny what had been growing between them.

“Yeah, well. Anyway, I’m gonna hit the hay. Long day ahead,” Dean mumbled, making his way to the door. “G’night, Cas. Let me know what happens to the sparrows, huh?”

They began their search in earnest the next morning. Dean always forgot just how nerdy the Men of Letters were until he went to search through their files – the boxes full of papers and text books was endless. Eventually, they recruited Sam and his nerd-like research instincts to help out. It took them a few days, but between the three of the them they eventually came across a couple ancient looking tomes that contained spells that held promise for Castiel. One spell would turn back Castiel’s body clock, undoing any changes to his physical self during a certain time period. Another would allow him to grow a new pair of wings. A third supposedly could make him fly without needing wings at all.

“So we’re going for no-wings transport, right?” Dean spoke up as Castiel deliberated the options. It seemed like the most logical choice, after all.

Sam squinted at the list of ingredients needed for the spell and cleared his throat. “I dunno, Dean, this spell looks really complicated. Blood of a griffin is hard enough, but feather of an archangel? Last I checked, all of them were dead or out of reach.”

Dean sighed, knowing that trying to summon an archangel was definitely out of the question. They’d all had more than enough of winged dickbags, present company excluded.

“Alright, so what about growing a new pair of wings?” He asked impatiently.

Castiel’s mouth twisted, his eyes widening with distress. “Call me sentimental, but I’m fond of the wings I have. I don’t want to grow another pair. What if they’re a strange shape or colour? What if they’re not feathered? Please… I’d prefer to try the other spell.”

And hell if Dean could disagree with that kind of pleading. “They’re your wings, buddy,” he muttered gruffly. “So we just do this spell and it turns your body back five years to when your wings were still big and badass. What do we need, Sammy?”

“Uh, the usual herbs, blood of a rabbit, and a body part of the intended recipient. Some hair should do it, I think.” Sam added.

Castiel looked unconvinced.

“I’m not so sure hair will work. Jimmy may be in heaven, but this vessel is still his body, for all intents and purposes. I think you’ll need something specifically from me. Maybe some of my grace would work.”

Dean could see that Castiel didn’t look overly pleased by that prospect, and he couldn’t exactly blame him. The last time his grace had been used in a spell, all the angels had been kicked out of heaven.

“What about a feather?” He spoke before he had a chance to change his mind. “I, uh, I have one from when I was clearing out the car, y’know… making sure my baby stays junk free.”

Dean pulled the long black feather out of his pocket and held it out awkwardly, his face defensive as he dared anyone to comment on the fact that he carried around one of Castiel’s feathers. Thankfully, aside from the corner of Sam’s mouth twitching, there was no visible reaction to his words. He didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing, so he just clapped his hands together and moved on.

“Alright, so. Let’s do this.”

There was a small spring in Castiel’s step as they got started. He was practically vibrating with excitement, his hopes high that he would get his wings back at full capacity.

When Sam lit the flame and dropped it in the bowl, Dean prepared to flinch from the blinding light, but nothing happened. He looked at Sam in confusion, wondering what had gone wrong. Clearly Sam had the same thought, because he picked up the book, reading through each step again.

“I don’t understand; we did everything correctly. It should have worked. Cas? Cas?”

Dean turned and almost choked on his own tongue. Where Castiel had been standing only moments before, there was a small child, looking up at him with familiar blue eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean began, unable to take his eyes off the child. “Does Cas seem a little… shorter to you, or do I need to stop drinking before bed?”

Sam glanced, wide-eyed at Dean, confirming that his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him. For a long moment they stared down at the child, who promptly sat down and began to cry. Loudly. “Uh, don’t cry, uh…. _Cas_. We’ll fix this, I promise.”

It was clear neither of them wanted to pick Castiel up, knowing they’d probably end up with a lapful of one very pissed angel of the Lord once they worked out what had gone wrong, but the crying was unbearable. Swallowing, Dean knelt down in front of the mini-Castiel and touched his shoulder.

“Hey, buddy, there’s no need for tears. Sammy’s gonna fix this. In the meantime, how about you and I go and make a PB&J huh? With grape jelly?”

It worked, much to his surprise. The tears dried up immediately. Even so, Castiel’s lower lip was trembling as he took Dean’s hand and started pulling him in the direction of the kitchen. Dean caught Sam’s eye and glared, gesturing for him to hurry up and fix whatever the spell had done to Cas.

After fixing up Cas’ sandwich, he made one for himself and settled down across the table from the angel, smiling at him. “You know, you’re kind of adorable like this, Cas. An actual baby in a trenchcoat.”

The glare might have been from a five-year-old’s body, but the promise of a smiting was still there. Dean gulped, letting out a nervous laugh as he focused on his own sandwich. They ate in silence, listening to the sounds of Sam scuffling about and muttering to himself as he tried to undo the spell.

Thankfully, the solution was found rather quickly.

Sam gave a long-winded explanation about the spell not binding properly, to which Dean pretended to listen to solemnly, all the while pulling faces at Castiel.

“Uh-huh, and in layman’s terms?” He pressed.

Sam rolled his eyes. “The spell recognised Cas and Jimmy’s body as one, so it… _de-aged_ both Cas and Jimmy reverting them to children instead of just simply winding the clock back a few years for Cas. We’ve got to completely undo the spell in order to set everything right again. _Then_ we can focus on trying to get Cas’ wings back.”

“Roger,” Dean saluted. “Hopefully Cas doesn’t end up, like, a hundred this time.”

Sam resolutely ignored him, choosing instead to focus completely on the spell. Sure enough, a few moments later, Castiel was standing back among them – the right age this time. This time, when Sam began the spell, Dean held his breath, watching for any sign of Castiel’s wings repairing themselves.

The lightbulb popped, the static in the room making Dean’s hair stand on end. Despite them being underground, the room seemed to be filled lightning. Two majestic shadows unfurled from behind Castiel, his usually solemn face filled with pride.

“So, batteries back to full power, huh?” Dean spoke up, cheerfully, attempting to nudge Castiel with his elbow. Before he’d even got the words out, however, Castiel disappeared.

Dean blinked, his brow furrowing. Great, this was one thing he hadn’t missed about Castiel’s wings. The dude had a habit of popping up and disappearing whenever he felt like it.

“Dude, he’s probably just taking them out for a test drive,” Sam laughed, seeing Dean’s annoyed expression. “He’ll be right back.”

“Will he?” Dean snapped, his fists clenching. “I mean, why would he? He lost the wings because of us in the first place after we tracked down Metadouche. All of the crap that ever happened to him is because of us, and now he’s got his wings back, he can just… fly off back to heaven. Why would he want to come back?”

A hand settling on his shoulder made Dean jump. He swallowed, staring straight ahead, refusing to look around. Of course Cas had to come back at the exact moment he was spilling his heart out and being all gooey.

“Because we’re family.” Castiel replied quietly. “Because you’ve both done more for me in seven years than many of my brothers and sisters in millennia. I will always come back to you, Dean.”

Dean made the mistake of looking up at Cas, swallowing hard as he saw Cas’ earnest gaze trained on him. He didn’t even have it in him to pass this off as just another fleeting moment, and in a moment of weakness, he placed his own hand on top of the one on his shoulder, squeezing lightly.

“I know.” He whispered, before pulling away and heading for the door.

“Dean?”

When Dean turned around, Castiel’s cheeks were flushed slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor. “The sparrows. From last night? They became self-sufficient. But they never went too far, and they all migrated together at the end. Just thought you’d want to know.”

“Good.” Dean replied, after a long moment of silence. He turned on his heel and smiled as he made his way to his bedroom.

Cas might not be a baby sparrow, but he would always come back to Dean.

**Author's Note:**

> [MY TUMBLR](http://blueeyedangel.co.vu)


End file.
